This article appears as part of the Unspun: Scottish Politics newsletter.

One way or another John Swinney is going to have to eat a pie baked by the Scottish Greens and decorated with the word ‘humble’ in large pastry lettering.

He has only two choices – that’s his big problem. His options are: cave into the Greens on a raft of policies, or have the SNP’s erstwhile partners in government shoot his budget down in flames, thereby potentially collapsing his own administration. Talk about frying pans and fires.

There are some Greens still so incensed at the way Humza Yousaf booted the party from power-sharing that they want the SNP to squirm and suffer, beg and plead, and still fall.

Yousaf’s move against the Greens was catastrophically clown-shoed. Thinking he’d quell an anti-Green rebellion in his own ranks, he threw away his Holyrood majority and insured his demise in the face of what became unwinnable parliamentary votes.

That recent history clearly points towards what’s awaiting Swinney come budget time. Nationalist agony, and Green vengeance, was merely delayed.

The Greens have been testing the waters of late. Earlier this month, the Greens put a motion before Holyrood calling for “the most effective and progressive use of existing tax powers”. Ross Greer, of the Greens, said the party could reach agreement with the SNP if Swinney was “willing to deliver”.

Significantly, the SNP supported the Green motion – an indication, perhaps, of Swinney’s readiness to gobble down that humble pie. 

After the vote, Greer put out a statement saying that the SNP “must now match words with actions”, and laying conditions on Green support for the budget. He castigated nationalists for giving “handouts to big business and elite landowners”, while Scottish children live in poverty.

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Greer pointedly concluded: “If the government is prepared to work constructively with us, the Scottish Greens are prepared to negotiate in good faith to deliver a budget.”

On the Greens' possible shopping list are taxes on large retailers selling alcohol and tobacco – the so-called ‘supermarket tax’ – as well as luxury taxes on private jets, and levies on cruise ships.

Greens remain furious that after the collapse of the Bute House deal the SNP trashed their legacy by reinstating peak rail fares, cutting funding for nature projects, and dropping the commitment to expand free school meals for all P6 and P7 pupils.

The political game here is complex. Firstly, if the Greens don’t extract maximum concessions from Swinney they will look pathetically weak in the eyes of voters. 

To back the SNP after being humiliatingly and unceremoniously swept from power with the wave of a pen would be beyond shaming. It would mark the party forever as pushovers, and render them unelectable in the eyes of many inclined to vote for them in the past.

Why cast a ballot for a party that not only takes a kicking but licks the boot of the person who kicked them? Politics is a rough game and while the Greens like to play it nice, there’s the matter of being too nice for your own good.

'If the Greens don’t extract maximum concessions from Swinney they will look pathetically weak in the eyes of voters' (Image: Newsquest) Additionally, it may well help the Greens’ political fortunes if they showed some steel. Many voters still view them as ‘lentil-munchers’ – as the old jibe goes – engaged in soppy student politics. So offing the party of government would certainly go a long way to proving there’s ice in their veins. A show of strength might win some voters.

Regicide would guarantee weeks of publicity – and in politics all publicity is good publicity. If people are talking about you, then you’re winning. Years of anti-Green propaganda in the right-wing press merely resulted in them increasing their vote share, after all.

That all means Swinney is on the rack whatever happens. If he doesn’t do a deal with the Greens then he faces being unable to pass his budget. If the SNP cannot get its spending plans through Holyrood then Swinney would face a vote of no confidence. 

If he lost that vote, Swinney would have to resign. If MSPs couldn’t agree a replacement in 28 days, Scotland would face an ‘extraordinary election’.

So, put bluntly: if Swinney doesn’t make nice with the Greens he could fall. The parliamentary arithmetic means that even with Alba’s one defector he needs Green backing. 

Why would Labour, LibDems or the Tories help him survive? They’d happily let the Greens take the heat from nationalists for ending SNP rule.

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However, if Swinney does cosy up to the Greens then he faces rage and possible rebellion within his own ranks. It’s hard to imagine the likes of his deputy Kate Forbes, or his meddlesome backbencher Fergus Ewing, being anything other than disgusted by doing the Greens’ bidding.

Of course, old fashioned human emotions will play a big part in what happens. Revenge is a strong urge to resist. It is especially tempting to serve revenge to a nemesis ice-cold. The Greens have sat with their humiliation a long time and may simply want to stick the knife straight through the SNP.

Indeed, what is happening behind the scenes at Holyrood will decide whether Swinney really is a sophisticated leader and deal-maker. If he can navigate these stormy waters then he’s assuredly a politician of unquestionable skill. 

If he can’t, he’s done whatever way the cards fall, and will go down in history as just another here-one-day gone-the-next leader – the likes of which we’ve had to suffer repeatedly over recent years all across these islands of ours.

Neil Mackay is the Herald’s Writer-at-Large. He’s a multi-award winning investigative journalist, author of both fiction and non-fiction, and a filmmaker and broadcaster. He specialises in intelligence, security, crime, social affairs, cultural commentary, and foreign and domestic politics.